


A Fresh Start

by DemonDeepFried



Series: Lost to the Wolf Inside [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Animagus, Animagus Harry Potter, Animagus- Wolf, Divorce, F/M, First Day of School, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Third Year, Moving, Potions, Teenage Sass, Turn into a Wolf, Vampires, Wolf Powers, wolf - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 12:03:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4262589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonDeepFried/pseuds/DemonDeepFried
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a pure blood witch from a boring town in Bristol, you have only ever felt free while in your wolf animagus form. When you transfer from your old Wizardry school to Hogwarts in the third year, you can almost see everything you've ever found in life come crashing down around you. You're leaving your friends, father, school and an entire life you will never find again.</p><p>On your first day of Hogwarts, you've been sorted, decided you hate the Potions teacher and found yourself a new chew-toy all in the same day. Harry, Ron and Hermione make you feel at home but its the cold blond boy with the sharp tongue and cruel words that really jolts you into this new life.  </p><p>You can practically feel your inner wolf grinning excitedly at the prospect of bending his superior attitude to your will and leaving him a crumbling mess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fresh Start

You were stressed. 

Everything in your life was changing now that your parents had decided to split up and move you from beloved school, Braelford Academy for Gifted Magical Children, and from your best friends: Dantea (a mutant girl with purple skin, black horns and a black tail)- you had known her since you were in pigtails and had stuck by each other when you first joined the Academy; Damian (a vampire from East-Europe)- you had first met him three years ago in Romania and had brought him home to save him from a group of slayers; and Bobby-John (a muggle born wizard from Kent)- you lived next-door to Bobby-John and often stayed round at his house when you wanted a break from your parents’ fighting.

Growling quietly, you shot a dark look in the direction of your mother, who was keeping her gaze firmly on the road as she drove to your new house in London: a two bedroom terraced house in a street in even less quality than your current - _old_ \- one in Bristol. Your parents’ argument had been that you would be at your new school and wouldn’t be spending much time in the new house.

* * *

 

But that was even worse because it was your third year and you would new to all of their customs and were guaranteed to get lost. 

Miserably, you thought back to your last full day in Bristol. You had spent with your three best friends, going into town to shop during the day and then having a small party in the evening. They’d all clubbed together and got you a going-away present, which was a beautiful gold locket which they had bewitched that when opened a black scale, a fang and a handful of glitter would float from it. 

The black scale was a symbol from Dantea; it was from the first time she shed, and you had marvelled at how beautiful it was (because there were so many shimmering colours in the smooth surface- not just black.)

The fang was from Damian. It had been lost during a fight when he had been bullied for being a vampire (’You shouldn’t be here! You’re a filthy bloodsucker!’) after one of his attackers had hit him in the face. But you had come to Damian’s rescue, throwing the guys off him and, with the help of Dantea and Bobby-John, had landed the three bullies on the floor.

The glitter was from Bobby-John- a private joke the four of you shared. Since Bobby-John was so openly gay and comfortable with it, you often shared small chuckles over it. One of which was that he could produce rainbow-coloured glitter.

Fiddling with where the locket hung comfortably around your neck, you rested your head against the cool window and watched the rain patter against it and run down in droplets. 

You were not happy about this move.

* * *

 

However, when you finally arrived at the house, you decidedly hated it even more.

The nearest large expanse of woods or forestry was nearly from where you were situated. As soon as you had heaved your luggage inside, you set off at a run for the Bandicoot Forest.

Reaching it, you took a moment to slip your eyes closed and breathe in the foreign air and musty smell of the trees, then you focussed your mind and felt your body twisting and changing out of its human form until you landed on your hands - _paws_ \- and flicked your golden eyes open.

Changing into your animagus form of a wolf always soothed you because a wolf couldn’t feel stress. 

It felt anger. 

It felt hunger.

It felt comfort.

But it didn’t feel stress.

Feet pounded dry earth.

Leaves rustled with wind.

Birds chittered in trees.

_Here, you were free._

* * *

 

Students crowded everywhere. It took a minute to realise that they were all shooting indiscreet glances in your direction, whispering hushedly to each other and pointing.

 _Yeah, I’m a transfer_ , you though bitterly.  _Fucking deal with it._

Trudging up to the small stage at the top end of the hall had you averting your stare to the floor and awkwardly shuffle towards where a female professor, with a stern face and pointed hat, motioned towards the worn stool stood in the middle. Self-consciously, you avoided eye contact with the rest of the gathering- a sea of black pointed hats and robes- and nervously placed the scruffy old sorting hat on your head.

Expectantly, you muttered to yourself, “ _Come on, please put me in a good house- or no house at all! Then I can go back to Braelford!”_

“ _From Braelford, huh_?” the hat replied.

You were slightly startled for a minute at the twisted, inhuman voice but then stuttered, “ _Uh, y-yeah, I am. My mother made me come down here after her and my father split. All I wanna do is go home, but--umm, if you could put me in a good house, that would be pretty good too...?”_

The sorting hat seemed fairly amused at this and mulled it over thoughtfully. “ _Hufflepuff, perhaps? No, much to fiesty for that- and not to mention your unsociability-”_

_“Hey!”  
_

_“-Ravenclaw then? No, no, no, definitely not. So that leaves...Gryffindor...or Slytherin?”_  the sorting hat seemed to be smirking to itself and gods knew what you looked like right now with the browned material slipping over your eyes, “ _Both would highlight your true quirks and personality. Umm, let me see, ah yes, a lot of independence- but that could go either way- courage and loyalty (Gryffindor attributes,) but also a quiet and manipulative tendency (certainly Slytherin.) Where--to--put--young Miss Y/F/N...”_

You mentally swore and huffed loudly. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Professor Mcgonagall sneaking curious glances at you- apparently you were taking a while. If only the bloody hat would just make up its min-

“Gryffindor!” it shouted suddenly and you tore it off your head with a sigh of relief before trotting down the stage steps and to the cheering table of - _you assumed, anyway_ \- Gryffindor students.

“Hi,” a smiling brunette with a mane of tangled hair greeted you, offering her hand, “I’m Hermione Granger. This is Ron and Harry. You’re Y/F/N, right?”

Momentarily stunned by her babbling, you quickly accepted her hand with a small polite shake and nodded. “Yeah, good to meet you.”

The aforementioned Harry and Ron were sat, respectively, to your right and to the left of Hermione opposite you. The ginger one, introduced as Ron, had a mouthful of sausages already (you had been sorted after all of the first years,) and Harry- a boy with milk bottle lens glasses and untidy ebony-coloured hair- was sipping shyly at a jug of pumpkin juice.

“Hey,” you greeted tersely, loading your plate up with some mash potatoes. and some red meat to soothe the wolf in you.

“Y/N?” an Irish, and immediately recognisable, voice came from behind you. “Oh my god! It is you!”

Turning, you spotted one of your mum’s friend’s sons, Seamus Finnigan grinning at you. “Seamus, hi!” you greeted, wrapping him up in a hug and feeling your mood lift. Sitting him next to you, you began properly engaging in the conversation between the third year Gryffindors with renewed zest.

So, you had one familiar face, and three prospecting friends.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

* * *

 

The first class you had the next day was Potions.  _Fan-bloody-tastic._

It had been your least favourite lesson at Braelford, too, the only joys in it being your seating position: on the only four-seater table in the room, at the back, with Dantea, Damian and Bobby-John. 

Your teacher had been an uncaring middle-aged man with a short temper and tendency to ignore how you joked and chatted freely in the dark corner of the small, damp tower room that was situated in one of the academy’s turrets hidden in the forest. His name was Professor Tielby and he had balding mousey brown hair with grey eyes that once too often strayed longingly to the drawer in his desk where he kept his firewhiskey.

Professor Snape, you decided, was nothing like Tielby.

While Tielby was arguably more amicable, Snape was just the embodiment of all things that were fucked up with the world.

The first words he said to you were, “Sit with Potter, do not disturb my class, catch up where necessary.”

Unfortunately for you, the wolf inside had no filter and when someone didn’t pay you equal respect you either got really angry (alpha mode jumping into gear) or really sassy. 

Fortunately, it seemed your wolf was in a sassy mood today and it looked like you weren’t going to spontaneously turn into a wolf and maul your new teacher in a sign of domination.

Unfortunately, he didn’t look like the kind of man to appreciate teen sass and the words were out of your mouth before you could stop them. 

“Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed, this morning,” you replied, arching an eyebrow and gauging his reaction.

It seemed the class had silenced completely.

Waiting for Snape’s reaction.

 _Well, shit_ , you thought to yourself.

But, surprisingly, the hook-nosed, greasy-haired man smirked and said in a voice devoid of emotion, “Apparently. Miss Y/L/N, I actually think you should go and sit next to Malfoy.”

There was a terse bubbling of murmurs; you shrugged and went to sit next to the blond boy indicated.

After that, the lesson ran quickly. You spoke very little to ‘Malfoy’ but had managed to find out that his first name was ‘Draco’ after the pug-faced girl next to him addressed him as such for the tenth time. It was actually really starting to get on your nerves. The lot of them were.

A house brick had more brain cells than both Crabb and Goyle put together, and all they seemed to talk about was food and beating kids up.

Pansy Parkinson had a squealy, grating voice and acted as though licking Draco’s shoes clean would be the greatest honour.

The tall dark boy, Blaise Zabini, had been checking you out since you entered the classroom and you were pointedly ignoring the flirtatious smirks he kept shooting your way.

And then, Draco himself. 

He acted as though he had been sevred upon by house elves his whole life and it wouldn’t surprise you if he turned his nose up at people who washed their own clothes. As it turned out, he was a pureblood on the warpath to destroy every living wizard or witch who wasn’t.

The first thing he’d properly asked you had been, “So, you’re a Gryffindor, I see. It wouldn’t surprise me if you were a blood traitor, too.” At that, all of the other Slytherins had sniggered.

Rolling your eyes, you groaned, “Great, you’re one of those dicks that thinks they’re oh-so-superior just because they have two magic parents. You know back at our school, we had a word for people like that? Yeah, we call them ‘assholes’.”

Malfoy narrowed his eyes and stepped into your personal space to warn you very quietly, “You wanna watch what you say me, Y/L/N.”

“Oh yeah?” you retorted, taking another offensive step forwards so that the two of you were chest to chest and you could feel his warm breath on your face-  _ooh, he smells like peppermint..._ “Or what?”

“I have a lot of influence,” he told you without missing a beat, “I can make your life here Hell.”

Smirking tauntingly at him, your inner wolf rose to the challenge with a wicked grin of glee, and you replied with, “So can I.”

Then you said slightly louder, loud enough for the rest of the class to hear, “Draco! That’s disgusting! There is no way I’d do that with you, you perverted creep!” Jumping away from him as though you’d been electrocuted, you scoffed in mock disgust and flashed him a subtle wink before moving over to Hermione’s table.

He stood there, speechless and motionless, only managing to stutter incomprehensibly, “W-what--I, I didn’t...she-she...”

Under the table, Hermione gave you a high five and an approving nod before you all returned to your cauldrons- Malfoy doing nothing more than frustratedly sulking at his.

But every so often, without your noticing, he would sneak glances in your direction and the smallest of impressed smiles would play on his lips.

_You had caught his attention._

_And so the game began._

**Author's Note:**

> There will be a part 2 to this so stay tuned :)


End file.
